A Healing Process
by Mozu The Mochi
Summary: One year prior a major break up, Tetsuya meets his ex in a nightclub. He isn’t ready for some feelings, not when he’s thrown in a drunken stupor. Oneshot, COMPLETED. For Akakuro Week ‘18.


**A Healing Process**

" _Sometimes the hardest part isn't letting go but rather learning to start over."_

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― Nicole Sobon, Program 13

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Glasses clinking together, a bartender pouring over champagne and whiskey to ushering customers who just come shuffling from the dance floor. Heavy noise is distraction enough, a momentarily mixture of blurring EDM and the gleeful screams and moans of god-knows-who. Surely enough, his stupor will render his mind blank at the moment, not considering how mornings would always, _always_ ending up in disasters. But even with his head heavy with liquor, and his limbs clumsily following whatever rhythm playing from the DJ, his mind isn't so distracted enough to steer his eyes from the patch of scarlet hair from a distance. It's funny how one year versus a random night could change everything that you have felt for now.

Standing somewhere beside the counter, perhaps twenty metres from the dancing drunkard himself, is apparently his ex-boyfriend that he had broken up with last year. A year might have been enough, _maybe_ , and Kuroko Tetsuya never have felt so deliriously content for these past few months, but he is certainly not ready to have himself facing over someone with a broken bond.

Especially not his childhood friend, and past lover, Akashi Seijuurou.

Oh dear, oh God. Tetsuya wants nothing but to get out from here, but a part of him fears that a contradicting movement (from the rest of the crowd) might catch his attention. Tetsuya is wise enough to know about his past relation, knows of his observant eye and that Akashi Seijuurou is not to be taken as a fool. He stops dancing, and finally the ache of bumping his hips against the throng and having his limbs moving in a jitter rushes through his muscles. Inwardly, Tetsuya groans. Though, even with the far distance, he founds himself letting out just a small whimper. As if his mind has been in caution. As if his sole existence might be too revealing.

He needs to get out of this club.

All that the blunette ever wanted is a palliative to his broken heart. Part of the ideas, contributed by Ryouta and heeded by Daiki, is to head over to a random club and drink his guts out, and do a conquest sort of dance in the centre of the dance floor with fluorescent lights. As much as idiocy does it sounds, the idea is tempting to a stressed-out blunette. After all, university is nothing but a mundane blur of events for the likes of him. Just a little over the edge, Tetsuya is well aware that he is failing albeit his favourite course.

Psychology reminds him nothing but Seijuurou. Wary, intelligent, sharp Seijuurou. It is the passion they share. About the common mannerism of all humans despite various aspects. And studying this after that kind of commotion really weighs his heart.

It hurts.

"Kise-kun, Aomine-kun," the blunette calls out, full fatigue settling in, and right at the moment, he wants nothing but to curl in bed. Perhaps, cry for an hour or two. "I'm going back to the dorm," he grits his teeth, uncomfortable with the baffled reactions coming from his two friends.

Ryouta gasps out, typical of him for giving an extra respond instead of just accepting the notion. Complain he did, because as he claimed himself to be, the blond has the preferences of sticking together in any kind of activities. " _Eeeeeh_ , but we only came here like, an hour ago!"

"Then, an hour is enough for me."

"But," the blond bites his lip, noticing the unsettling shift of gaze coming from his petite friend. As bubbly as he is, the blond can be aware too sometimes. He follows the trail of Tetsuya's stare, before landing to a familiar figure still situated by the counter. Following the sight, he releases an explainable tone of, "Oh."

Daiki might have notice too, but he said nothing about it and just, somehow, lands a hand on top of the soft azure tufts. "You do need a bit of rest," he speaks, nonchalantly but his words straight up blunt, "You look like shit, you know that?"

"Aominecchi!"

"What? It's true! Look at those god damn eyebags, you look like someone who only take weed for breakfast!"

"Kurokocchi wants comfort not some fucking joke, you jerk!"

While they banter about pointless arguments, the shortest out the trio growls and begrudgingly leaves the crowd. He hears a whine, it is the blond calling out for him but he trudges past the noise, and quickly slips away past the bar with a frantic rush of adrenaline. He just hopes the redhead would not notice, a blur of blue heading towards the exit.

Outside is brusquely cold, the wind biting against his alabaster white skin and gliding through the fabric of his green bomber jacket. The streets are dark saved by the yellow glow of streetlights, even so the glow focuses on one spot, and the unaffected area remains in a black abyss. Blue and white trainers trudge against thick lump of ivory snow, the frosty feeling creeps into his foot slowly as he stops his track and wide azure eyes look ahead of him. At that exact moment, Tetsuya wants nothing more but to throw up the contents in his guts. Visions swirling, one person becomes a clone of three and perhaps growing more and more in number, then he sees them spinning like a wheel. Even with the fading sight, the blunette is caution enough to notice scarlet hair, bangs grown up to reach below his eyes and the once neat style goes missing but replaced with tousled locks. Though, he isn't so capable to do anything but stagger on his feet. And those two eyes, different shades. Both of the warmest colours but of different pigments; one of raw blood and the other, sienna shining like an expensive jewelry.

Seijuurou tries to smile, but the blunette is too much in a haze to even acknowledge the handsomely gesture. Instead, he hurls out his content out of a sudden and passes out in a blink. So much for a comeback.

One thing the blunette could confirm, is that he must have look really shitty.

When Tetsuya wakes up, the first feeling settles in his head is dread. Remorse comes after, his rational thought finally speaking up to him and he has a makeshift voice nagging him at his stupidity. _Why do you even go clubbing when you know you can't even handle three glasses of fucking martini?_ Tetsuya flinches at himself cursing. This is pure anger to his own self.

"You overdone it last night," a voice casually pipes in out of nowhere, greeting him as if the end of world means a norm. Tetsuya blinks twice, a weak whimper escaping his dry lips. Then, the memories start flooding in his mind just as the colour drains from his face and he turns his pale face to the voice's direction.

Of course, how can he be so stupid? This isn't even the dorm, not when the space is spacious and it smells like cinnamon and men's perfume.

"Sei -" Tetsuya chatters his teeth, and stops himself from calling out the name. A wrecked up brain is telling him to flee, and so he hauls himself from the bed but the other man calls out to him. Again.

"Wait."

The blunette stops, and inwardly he is thinking the reason of his halt. Tetsuya turns around to face him once again, this time he responds with an equivalent tone but with an additional menace, "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" The redhead scoffs at the question. He is sitting by the plush couch situated in the spacious bedroom, beside lays a human-sized mirror and a rather boxy wardrobe reaching way up till the ceiling. Talk about anthropometrics, this is just a boast to his own wealth. Seijuurou continues talking, "I want nothing more but to discuss the apparent reason of you attempting to avoid me."

Tetsuya raises one brow. "Avoid you? Excuse me, how do you even know that I -"

"I saw you just as I came, Tetsuya," the harsh fact settles in. A lump makes its way to the blunette's throat, and he feels himself swallowing thickly with a nervous fervour. "And besides, I saw Ryouta's selfie in his insta story. All the more reason to why I came there last night."

As much as he wants to feel the euphoric rush of Seijuurou's words, the blunette continues with his brusque manner. Raising his voice to a few octaves, he replies, "Bullshit."

"What?"

"You're dating someone else. Why would you want to find me again?"

Seijuurou looks at him with an expression the shorter man is not capable to decipher. Distraught, and a tinge of disappointment over his choice of words. Unfortunately, all that Tetsuya did is to point out facts. _Real_ current facts about Akashi Seijuurou.

He learns about it three months ago. One morning, the blunette had been in a hurry to History of Psychology class and usually the blunette isn't one to be clumsy, yet out of haste, the duffel bag he wrapped against his arms as he sorted out his due assignment inside was hurled to the air before landing nastily upon the ground. Red-faced and abashed, Tetsuya begrudgingly picked the notes and books strewn all over. Lifting his face just the slightest, he was met with his ex wrapping an arm around another person.

Now, embracing could just mean a friendly gesture. Upon the sight, Tetsuya's stomach twisted slightly but the bitterness was only confirmed as the other man landed a kiss on Seijuurou's forehead.

He felt himself going sick. Seijuurou was better in moving on than he did. All he ever did in the past seven months was to hook up once with a miscellaneous guy from Grindr, even so the date was disastrous and extremely unpleasant to be even remembered. Seeing those two had overthrown him to waves of envy, or jealousy.

 _Mayuzumi Chihiro._

The name is stuck in his head to this very day.

In the current timeline, Seijuurou bites his lip while gifting the latter a guilty glance. The blunette is certainly not up for some banter at the moment, nor did he wants to listen to any details about how lovely this Mayuzumi Chihiro is. When the silence has lingered for too long, he makes a notion to leave but the redhead has stopped him once again. This time, something much more surprising and it has taken the blunette by surprise. He becomes shaken, and the waves of his dread rushes to his body that the gossamer line of waterworks comes to life.

"So. . .?" Tetsuya murmurs, still feigning the frustration in his tone. He stops his tears and brushes one palm roughly against his cherubic cheeks. "So what if you two broke up yesterday? Why does it have anything to do with me?" It should have been good news to his ears, but Tetsuya rather feels defensive in this situation than giving in.

"I thought that, we -" Seijuurou gulps, "I just missed you so badly, Tetsuya."

The blunette swallows upon the confession. As bad as he wants to give in, he mutters the biggest lie ever, "Well, I'm sorry but I don't." He stands up once again to leave, this time he really stands up and walks past the bedroom door. The kitchen is modernised, sleek black counter tops and bar stools aligning against the surface. His wallet and remaining stuffs lays upon the counter, and he makes no hesitation to swiftly grab and leave. Alas, just as he is about to head over and reach the knob, the other hand full of his stuffs and his shoes (along the way, he plans to escape barefoot), a strong hand pushes the door from opening. Tetsuya is well aware their distance is very well close, only mere centimetres apart. True enough, the blunette feels the heavy breathe landing upon his blue tufts.

"Breaking up is a mistake, Tetsuya," the man initiates once again.

"And what makes you think that?"

"That senior of mine isn't even a serious relationship. The only ties I had was you," Seijuurou swallowed, and the blunette feels arms wrapping around his waist. The warmth is a semblance, once a part of his memory now transpires to reality. He, too, misses this sensation.

Tetsuya turns to face his ex, having to raise his head slightly because apparently, due in one year, Seijuurou miraculously has grown a few more inches. The thought of forgiving dawdles in his head for a moment, before he gives in and draws out a long sigh. "It's unfair if I'm angry at you for being in another relationship," Tetsuya puffs, "I-It's not like I didn't try for another too."

"You did?"

"It didn't work out," the blunette faces him and weakly smiles, "It doesn't feel as good as you, to be honest."

Seijuurou laughs upon his confession of some sorts. Laughter that sounds sweet and pleasant to his ears, better than any clubbing music that guides his body to a galore of tiring movements. Glee as the redhead may be, though, the blunette feels a rush of heat upon his cheeks and slaps the arm around his lithe figure. The chuckle dies down and Seijuurou flinches slightly against the sudden hit. "My bad attempt of having another love life is not funny," Tetsuya pouts.

"Hey, I'm just happy that nobody could ever replace me just as you are to me."

The blunette rolls his eyes. "You're being confident," he pulls away from the embrace. Clearing his throat, the shorter lad gives him a wary look. "This doesn't mean anything yet between us. We're not going to date now."

An alarmed expression etches on his face, mouth hanging low like a gaping fish drawing out air. "Why?"

"Yeah, Sei, we're starting over. But," the blunette bites his lip, "I'm not so ready to be in this. . . whole thing, again. I'm just. . ." he pulls in oxygen, ". . .exhausted about everything that happened now. Give me time and fate will decide for us, okay?"

He could see the other trying to object the idea, but decides against it. The disappointment settles in, yet Seijuurou draws out a hand as a gesture. "We'll start over."

Honestly, even the blunette weighs the possibilities and the choice he is making. If he is to follow his heart, he would have leapt into the open arms of Seijuurou and kissed him into the familiarity that he miss so dearly. But after a year of having the null settling in his gut, Tetsuya wants nothing more than to escape from the holds of drama. Only way to heal is through time, and with them making truces, they will take a long, winding road to make things better again. Upon the agreement, Tetsuya smiles brightly and clasps the redhead's hand with both of his.

For now, being friends again is all that Tetsuya ever needs.

 **END**

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 **Mozu : Heheheheheheheheheheh. So I heard it's Akakuro Week! I meant to post this yesterday but I, uh, got busy instead. IT'S BEEN A WHILE SINCE I'VE BEEN WRITING ONESHOTS FOR THEM AND HONESTLY I MISS THIS CRAZY FANDOM! I cant believe the facebook community is active though, and I'm happy for that.**

 **Well, feel free to contact this lonely person :**

 **Facebook : Mie Rah**

 **instagram : miwaaa_jejuli**

 **-Mozu The Mochi (2018)**


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